The Artist Merle! What's Her Game?
by nvzblgrrl
Summary: When a mysterious girl with a strange Devil Fruit appears and begins drawing out her own niche in the New World, she begins drawing her life together. What will happen when the Straw Hats show up on the shore of her remote little island? BrookxOC friendship that may or may not lead to something else...
1. Chapter 1

**Her Name Is Merle! The Artist Capable Of Redrawing Reality!**

…

The artist drew the pencil across the large sheet of paper smoothly, a faraway look in her pansy eyes as she rendered the image in her mind onto the crisp white surface in bold lines. Her wild gray hair, only partially held back in a ponytail, kept tickling at the edges of her peripheral vision as she labored over this new piece. Occasionally, she would remove her huge circle frames for a quick cleaning, but other than that, kept sketching away at what she hoped would become her newest companion. _Not what_, her conscience hissed at her. _Who_.

As the face took shape, with an unconventional nose and long twisting scar, a soft, serene smile spread across Merle's face. Her art was her life and it reflected in her work, when she so desired, with a realism that was just as perfect as the photo on the bounty poster she had used as reference, though she would admit with a tint of sheepishness, upon a straight comparison of the two, that her drawing had a far more youthful visage, seeming at least a decade younger than the pirate who had been pushing the boundary of middle age before his unceremonious disappearance from the limelight half a century ago.

The body was a bit harder, with only the vague parameters of height and weight to work with, though the slender figure that Merle had ended with seemed appropriate enough, though it served to make the man's cloud of curly black hair that much more ridiculous, like an all black dandelion ready to release its inky seeds with the next zephyr to pass its way. The analogy hit a subconscious nerve, resulting in a errant stroke that was quickly amended by her eraser.

Merle's soft smile faded as she delivered the last strokes to the picture, the seemingly minor detail of wrinkles on the man's right hand. It was a serviceable piece, good enough for her powers at any rate and enough not to offend her artistic sensibilities, though she held some concern in the pit of her heart. This was a portrait of a real person, artistic license notwithstanding, and when she brought it to life… _**Him**_, she corrected herself. _He's a person, a real person. I cannot treat people as things. Anything that lives, that breathes, anything that __**feels**__, is not a toy._ She would not repeat the mistake she had made with her Storm King. Never again.

…

64 Years ago…

In an abandoned flat in a wretched hive of a city, Brook felt an odd tingling sensation run through his limbs as he hobbled to the bathroom, bleeding from several what he hoped were minor wounds that he could treat with his first aid kit. Had those back alley punks actually taken the time to poison their weapons? Weapons that they could barely wield? It wouldn't be the craziest thing he had ever heard of. Nothing that he had seen so far in his drifting could quite compare to Captain Gregg's 'training' regimen in terms of over the top bat-shit craziness.

The emotions that welled up with the arrival of the word poison were mixed, ranging from indignation to despair, and from sadness to… some sort of dark mirth? People had always said that his sense of humor occasionally came across as morbid and even warped, though Brook had never given their words too much weight. Perhaps those people who said that the young musician with the bright outlook on life had a psychotic streak a mile wide and of the darkest dye weren't so far off the mark...

Brook offered the empty apartment a hollow chuckle as he sat down on the ratty bed, a roll of gauze ready to staunch the flow of blood that was reddening the sleeve of his jacket. He had barely begun when he felt his eyes roll back and the sensation of an endless fall. His last coherent thought before darkness overwhelmed his senses was, _Dying? But I was just getting started, Yoho…_

…

And then there was a divergence.

A Brook awoke in his apartment the next day, his wounds scabbed over and his memory hazy on how the hell he got those nasty boo-boos in the first place.

Another Brook found himself lying on top of a drawing desk in a dark manor house with a pair of wine colored eyes that simultaneously shone behind circular glasses with both rapt concern and piercing analysis staring into his. The girl had removed his glasses, pushing them up onto his forehead to reveal his eyes as she leaned into his personal space without a word as to why. Perhaps shinigami were allowed to molest spirits before allowing them to pass on into the afterlife…

Before frozen muscles could be galvanized into action however, the girl with the freaky eyes spoke twelve words that, quite frankly, were not the sort of words Brook would expect from an apparition of death. "Glasz. I could honestly say that I didn't expect them. Lovely though."

As the girl slid his glasses back down and stepped back, Brook sat up as best as he could while suffering minor injuries and sitting on a drawing desk, which is not always a hospitable place for someone's butt. Of all of his questions, he deemed one in particular the most important. "Where am I?"

…

Merle was surprised that he had regained consciousness so quickly. Storm King had just lain there for a time, at least until she had… _Now is not the time to think of __**that! **__Pay attention to what you're doing now and reminisce after dark!_

Her eyes focused on Brook again, discovering that he had adopted a look of apprehension and… _Was that the beginning of fear…?_ A sense of hopelessness descended over the part of her that still cared about what people thought of her.

Merle's gaze shifted over to a bookshelf as she tried to find the time to find the words to express her ultimate motive for bringing the young musician to a remote island in the middle of the Grand Line without sounding like some sort of monster. _Why doesn't inspiration strike when it's needed the most…?_

…

The point where Brook just decided that this whole situation was nothing more than a bizarre dream brought on by exhaustion and blood loss was when the shinigami treating him in the same fashion as a tsundere love interest, though, Brook supposed, this girl was more than a few degrees colder than that...

"I asked you this already, but where am I?" This seemed to snap the girl's attention back to him, though having those seemingly bottomless eyes stare into his soul was not the greatest sensation to experience during a polite conversation. After an eternity of silence, she answered.

…

When he had asked the question, she had been startled once again. _Maybe, _Merle thought, _Maybe I've been living in silence too long…_

The thought had trailed into silence, only ending when she realized that, once again, she had zoned out while staring at him, the very person that she had summoned to her home to keep her from going out of her mind with loneliness.

"My apologies. I have brought you to my home to serve as…" _As what? My valet? Butler? _"My companion." It was truth enough, though the words still felt false and thick on Merle's tongue. "As to where you are, you are in the second half of the Grand Line, otherwise known as…"

Brook cut her off with an accusatory finger. "I know what it's called! But how could you get me from West Blue to the New World in less than a year? It's impossible with any sort of current technology and…" He trailed off, though the finger remained pointed at Merle. She had a good idea of what he was going to finish with.

She turned to a writing desk covered with loose papers, absently sifting through them as she began speaking. "I do have a Devil Fruit ability, though it is not the Doa Doa no Mi or anything of a similar nature, other than the fact that it is of the Paramecia variety."

…

As she began moving, Brook felt compelled to do so as well, though it was a sort of wary imitation of movement in the dark drawing room. At the mention of Devil Fruits, he stepped away from her instinctively, though the fact that it was a Paramecia was a small comfort. Those ones telegraphed their attacks more than half the time and usually were defeatable if the user wasn't some sort of monster.

The girl continued talking in a flat tone as she filed through what to Brook's eye looked like doodles. "The power that allowed me to bring you to this time and place…" _…__**Time**__? Why include time?_ The question was lost as she pulled a small serpentine dragon from the paper with only the slightest indication of effort."The power that allows me to make dreams reality…" She returned the dragon to the paper with as much effort as she had used pulling it out. "The power of the Kaku Kaku no Mi."

…...

Her eyes are pansy as in the color (Pansy Purple)

Her gray hair is hereditary (Early Graying runs in her family, usually beginning during puberty but sometimes as late as thirty and sometimes as early as ten)

The Brook in question is 26 years old.

Captain Gregg - A reference to another fan fiction that I've been writing, A Gentleman's Tale. Also a reference to the black and white movie The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, a personal favorite.

Glasz eyes - A particular eye color that seems to rotate through the spectrum depending on the lighting. Example - Benedict Cumberbatch has Glasz eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Blackbird's Cry! Loneliness Is The Price For Power!**

…

_Her listless hands selected a page with all the delicacy of a child handling a moth, before producing a living and breathing, though small, dragon from the paper. "The power that allowed me to bring you to this time and place… The power that allows me to make dreams reality. The power of the Kaku Kaku no Mi." She dismissed the dragon as easily as she had called it forward._

_There was no way for Brook to avoid the complete loneliness that the strange girl had in her voice. While others delivering that line might have, intentionally or not, filled their voice with pride or arrogance in their absolute control of their domain, this girl had completely dispensed with emotion, aside from a hint of… was it ruefulness or sadness that had turned her unnatural eyes downwards?_

_As she began to exit the drawing room, she stopped in the doorway, turning her head a faction to the side to address Brook in her flat tone. "Your room is three doors to the left, on the left side of the hall. If you have need of me, just pull the bell cord. There are some clothes there that should be close to your size, should you wish to change." _

_She left before he could say anything to her._

…

Brook stared at the ceiling of his four poster bed in his new room. It was a comfortable bed, the likes of which he hadn't slept in in years, though he had the unpleasant feeling that someone else had used it not too long ago. The clothes in the closet did little to assuage his concerns, as they, just as the girl had promised, were a good fit for his thin frame, though some pieces were a bit old fashioned for even his tastes.

Why, of all people, would this girl, shinigami or not, choose him, a drifting musician of so little renown, to be her companion? Did she even know his name? A sensation of guilt stabbed into his heart as he realized; _I don't even know what to call her. If I call her 'Shinigami', would she be offended? Even if she is a messenger of death, just calling her by her job title is painfully rude…_

The sound of a murmuring voice caught Brook's ear, and as he sat up, he saw the source; a brass speaking tube near the door. He raised an eyebrow; just who else was here?

…

Merle sat at the desk in her room, not drawing or writing, just staring at the wall. "I messed up." The words came unbidden, though it didn't really matter in the end. It wasn't like anyone could hear her late night monologue.

She continued on, talking to the reflection sitting across from her. "I messed up, I'll admit it." The reflection failed to look convinced. Merle grimaced, tasting bitterness in her mouth. She never quite understood why that would happen, though it was a rather poignant way for her subconscious to tell her that she's full of it. "Who am I kidding? I mess up everything. First I get Ashling killed, then I break Storm King. Now I get to alienate an actual person, and if I'm especially lucky, Brook gets to die as soon as I start giving a damn about him as a person. Who knows, maybe some religious zealots will come to the island and lynch us. Me for playing God and him for being my abominable creation in mockery of man." A rueful laugh broke free from her through, the hard sound warping into a tortured sob as she put her head in her hands.

A distinct note of despair and misery entered her normally level voice as her eyes began to tear. "When they named me, was the expectation that I would be as my namesake? A blackbird to wander the world aimlessly, without accompaniment or comfort? If this is fate, should I defy it? Why should I suffer myself to be alone?" She buried her face in her hands as she pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to will her emotions back into submission. Back into that chest that she kept locked whenever someone could possibly see her pain.

She failed to notice that the speaking tube hidden behind a hat stand near her door was not stoppered.

…

At the other end of the tube, Brook's eyes widened and narrowed as he processed the words that echoed into his ears, while the rest of him pressed against the wall. The girl was a strange one, aloof and cool in person and emotional and depressive in private, though he had known several people who matched the description, especially when he had been training with the battle convoy. _Plus, you know, girls, _noted a sarcastic voice that wasn't quite Brook's. Strife had a habit of splitting people in two, though Brook doubted that this stick of a girl, who probably wasn't any older than twenty, had ever been a soldier of any kind.

_So, a guilt complex or a horrible childhood. Probably both_. At least it meant that she didn't have any ill will towards him, though the other names were disconcerting. _Ashling and Storm King… _They weren't familiar, but the way that she had said them, in the same way she had said Book's name, bothered him. Besides the fact that she had known his name and had already become concerned for his welfare, as far as not wanting him to die, despite never actually speaking to him.

As for her name… well, the blackbird hint would certainly narrow it down, but there was no way to figure it out without additional information. As he pulled away from the speaking tube, stoppering it as quietly as possible, a framed sketch of a photorealistic barn swallow flying in circles with an equally beautiful blackbird caught Brook's eye.

As he removed the frame from the wall to examine the piece up close, he noticed that the signature in the lower right corner was almost the same as one of the taxonomic labels next to the wheeling birds._ Hirundo rustica (Barn Swallow) and Turdus merula (Common Blackbird). _And the artist's name? Merle.

…

The next morning was uneventful by most standards. Brook had awoken to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and had followed the scent, eventually locating the kitchen. The girl was sitting at a table and a strange sticklike figure lacking a proper face and wearing the stereotypical chef's hat and apron was manning the griddle, flipping pancakes with a cartoonish speed that left speed lines in its wake.

As Brook sat down across the table from the girl, _Merle, _he mentally hissed at himself, _Her name is Merle!_ he felt her gaze drill into him again. He forced himself to match to the stare "You should know that staring is impolite, Miss Merle." The words, delivered bluntly and, to the sensibilities of a self-professed gentleman, rudely, came far too easily to Brook, considering that he had only met the girl yesterday and even then hadn't traded more than a handful of sentences with her or shared a proper introduction.

She tilted her head slightly, a flicker of emotion showing in her eyes for a moment as she studied his face.

…

_He had said her name. _Merle didn't recalled introducing herself, just one mistake in the train wreck that had been their meeting the night before. _How had he learned her name? _She had several drawings of hers framed and hung around the house, but making the connection between the signature and her was a rather wild leap. _Except she had explained her power while bringing one of her sketches to life._ There must have been some tell in the work, some stylistic flair that he had recognized, though he was a good ten paces away from her.

And she was staring again. Merle apologized, instead fixing her eyes on the plate of food that was set in front of her. She gave the stick figure cook an appreciative nod and saw him put a little bounce in his step as he trotted out of the room.

She turned back to Brook, seeing that the musician was already tucking into his meal with great gusto. As Merle sucked on a piece of bacon, she closed her eyes and focused her ears on Brook, trying to get a sense of the person who she had pulled from a semi-normal life into her nightmarish life on the impulse of her own selfish desires.

…

The food was some of the best that Brook had eaten in years, though he hadn't exactly been well fed as of late, what with being a 'starving artist' of sorts for the last few years. The pancakes were packed with fresh blueberries and blackberries that exploded with flavor inside his mouth with every bite. The bacon was also good, comfortably straddling the line between crisp and tender, with succulent meat and the perfect amount of grease.

When he looked at Merle, though, sucking on a strip of bacon with an unsettlingly relaxed expression on her face, Brook stopped shoveling his breakfast into his mouth and sat up a little straighter. A gentleman uses his table manners and small talk during a meal to create a hospitable atmosphere for both him and the person he is dining with.

"So why did you bring me here?" The gray haired girl seemed for a moment unaware that Brook had spoken, though as she opened her eyes, they seemed to carry the lazy awareness of a cat. "Didn't I explain last night? I desired a companion. You seemed suitable; amicable, musical, gentlemanly, versed in the martial art of swordplay should something go awry. So far, your presence has proven a plus to the atmosphere of this manor house."

Brook, slightly flustered by both the flat manner of his dining companion and her blunt explanation of purpose, attempted to provide a counter argument. "I haven't been here for more than a day! How could I change the atmosphere so much without doing anything?"

Merle's reply was short and succinct. "You're the lively type." She sipped at her milk before retreating to the library, leaving Brook in the kitchen with his breakfast, which he had just lost his appetite for thanks to the feeling of awkwardness that had fallen over him.

…...

Listening tube - It's a tube that people talk through, sort of an old fashioned thing. Was called a 'megaphone' before the megaphone that most of you are familiar with was invented. Also good for eavesdropping, if the other person is careless or unaware of the tube.

The perfect amount of grease here being just enough to keep the bacon from being dry. Any more is too much.


	3. Chapter 3

**Research And Discovery! What Plagues The User Of The Kaku Kaku No Mi?**

"_You're the lively type." She had spoken bluntly, trying to explain what made Brook special as simply as possible without scaring him with the weight of his importance to her. Merle couldn't just drop the news that he was her last chance for sanity on him._

_When she had chosen him, it had been on a whim. A pile of photographs and old newspapers had offered up some unique faces, but Brook's smile had caught Merle's eye. A man who could put forth an honest smile in the midst of battle, and not a blood thirsty grin either, but a smile filled with an energy and joy of life. _

_The information noted on the poster had indicated that the man was far from homicidal madness and had very little history of wild violence, though he had a military past. A bounty poster could be wrong, sure, but usually it would be wrong in the way of overplaying the negative traits of the person as to encourage their capture._

_She left the table without another word, going to the rather sizable library to lurk until she could sort out her thoughts. Merle couldn't fully understand why Brook discovering her name had amazed her so much. Perhaps it was the fact that the Storm King had to have Merle spell her name out for him twice before he could call her something other than 'mortal' or 'girl'. Was it really such a miracle to observe one's surroundings and deduce an answer from the assorted hints that she dropped by existing? _

_Merle stared at the paneled ceiling for a while, reclined haphazardly in her leather chair, her mind a near complete blank as she tried to shut her pesky emotions away again. She didn't need to scare Brook away. She didn't __**want **__him to leave her just yet. Her eyes flicked to a mirror on the other side of the room, wherein another girl gave her a questioning look._

_Merle broke eye contact with her reflection. "I'm just selfish like that, I guess." She closed her eyes, drifting into a light slumber._

…

As Brook left the kitchen to explore the manor house, the scale of the place being something that he had not quite expected, given the tightness of the hallway that had been his first real foray into the house, he was struck by the conspicuous quietness of the place. Not a single noise could be heard, other than a bit of wind from the outside and the occasional clicking of his shoes on the wood flooring.

For a man who is a musician by profession and a city dweller by circumstance, absolute silence is a maddening experience unlike any other. Brook found himself sympathizing with Merle, as she obviously had lived in the house for some time, as far as he could tell based on the way she easily maneuvered the clutter. The girl, who he was now positive was no older than twenty and no younger than sixteen, had no accompaniment in the house, besides the stick figure cook, which seemed incapable of human noise at any rate.

Locating the library, he found Merle dozing in a leather reclining chair and in the process of curling into a ball. A thin mint green blanket lay over the back of another chair, neatly folded and obviously well liked, as the tightly woven fabric was worn from years of use. The conclusion seemed obvious.

…

Merle stirred as she felt something descend on her, tensing up reflexively. The impression of pale green crossed her hazy mind, and she loosened. The sensation of fingers, real human fingers, with all their little details and irregularities, brushing past her bangs to remove her glasses was the last thing that Merle's brain processed before she drifted into a soft and warm dream where she could, at least for a half hour or so, truly be happy.

…

Satisfied with his good deed for the day, Brook sat down in the chair that he had removed the blanket from and opened a nearby newspaper, and was somewhat amazed by the fact that he suddenly had no context for the stories featured. _The news really changes quickly if you don't keep track. Which day is this from anyw- _As he looked at the date on top of the newspaper, Brook finally understood why Merle had included _**time**_._ 50... No, 60... __**64 years?**_

Other things that she had said and done began clicking into place, like a sudoku puzzle, and although Brook continued to flip through the paper, his mind was running at a mile a minute trying to piece together what little he knew about the Kaku Kaku no Mi.

She had pulled the dragon from nothing and sent it back just as easily, brought him over half a century into the future with no ill effects, at least as far as he could tell, possessed a powerful artistic talent that may or may not be linked to her power, possessed the power to 'make dreams real', and could 'play God' if so inclined.

_What sort of Devil Fruit gave someone the power to alter the very fabric of reality itself? _There had to be a catch. Well, a catch besides the never ending line of people asking for sources of money, the revival of the dead and other such things, not to mention the typical Devil Fruit weaknesses.

His train of thought was suddenly broken by a rather large article in the entertainment section. _Soul King's World Tour… Sound's like the music industry's become rather lucrative since then… At least enough to where a single musician can be pretentious enough to call himself 'Soul… King-' _A name had jumped at Brook from the article, a name that was very familiar to him; his own.

…

The dream Merle was in morphed suddenly, the pleasant soft and warm feelings becoming oppressively hot and sticky as she felt herself shoved into a feverish body that rattled with sickness. She couldn't see anything more that a vague blur of flesh toned misery as the man went into convulsions. Some instinct screamed that it was **imperative** that he live, though Merle could not quite discern the person's identity beyond the dark hair that swallowed her hand inside of a mass of sweat soaked coils as she tried to get a grip on… on something! Anything to make him stop flailing around like a mouse dying in the jaws of the trap…

…

A seed of apprehension settled in Brook's stomach as he stared at the five little letters in the newspaper that could potentially usurp his precious sanity within the next few minutes. He tried to force a smile, though his pathetic effort flattered about a third of the way across his face, sliding back into that unbelieving expression of shock.

Brook's inner voice sounded panicked, even to his ears. _It's a coincidence. 'Brook' is a common enough name, although more commonly for girls… _And then he saw the photo of the legendary 'Soul King'.

It wasn't the greatest shot, taken from a bad angle that completely obscured the musician's face and showed nothing more of his hands than two blurs that seemed to dance across the strings of his green shark guitar, even though the picture was static. _Alright, that may not be just the camera's doing. _The man was stick thin, wearing what could be a beautiful suit except for the floral print pants, a sky blue cravat and… _Why is that man wearing a feather boa? Does fame really make you that colorblind?_

But the thing that really got Brook's attention was the afro that was even bigger than his. An impossibility for anything less than a lifetime of growth. With that last realization, the seed of apprehension blossomed into the beginnings of doubt. Doubt in the validity of his own existence.

A moaning from the chair next to him snapped his focus to Merle, who was curling up in a tighter and tighter ball, a grimace on her face as she turned over in her chair.

…

The smell of oncoming death was stifling, but Merle wouldn't let go of his arms, even as they began putrefying in her hands, the liquefying flesh offering very little resistance to her fingers as they sank through to the bone. She still couldn't place him, though she could see the deformation of his face in front of her, the fine bones becoming harder to locate past the bubbling skin. The grey eyes remained alive and terrified, though they looked straight through her as if she was nothing but a ghost, another aspect of his suffering.

Merle's heart leapt as a pair of strong hands gripped her shoulder, pulling her away from the suffering that she was bound to. She spun around, ready to strike whoever had attacked her…

…

Brook honestly hadn't expected her to have such a powerful slap, though he had been expecting that her to attack him on some level. He had seen enough nightmares from both the inside and out to know that the sufferer would almost always come out swinging if interrupted by a witness who could no longer bear to watch their torment. As he rubbed his stinging cheek, Brook looked over to the corner where his glasses had flown. He could get them after he confirmed that Merle was alright.

She was huddled in her chair, staring past him and the walls of the library, a slight shiver running through her shoulders as she drew her blanket around her even tighter. As Brook sat down next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder in the process, her eyes flashed to and locked on his, and the fear, loneliness and pain were all too easy for him to read.

…

At the moment that she had heard Brook cry out in pain, she awoke from her nightmare. He was standing over her, though his head was turned the other direction. As Merle sat up, she stared blankly into the wall, trying to tear the image of the man cursed with life-in-death away from her memories, desperately wanting to forget those grey eyes that came to know every aspect of human suffering in those few moments, wanting to forget the fact that she had felt everything that he was feeling the moment she had locked eyes with him…

When Brook finally touched her again after kneeling to her level, snapping her out of her reverie, she instinctively locked eyes with him. His eyes, currently a reassuring steel blue shot through with silvery tones, offered stability and, despite the angry red weal on his face, a complete disregard for the injury she had just done him. Merle was then struck by something that was both obvious and astounding at the same time. _He isn't wearing his glasses. _Her amazement promptly shifted to embarrassment and shame._ Oh shit._ "Did I…" She swallowed, a slight blush illuminating her pale cheeks as she broke eye contact. "Did I break your glasses, Brook?"

…

_That's what she was worried about? My glasses? For a seemingly all-powerful Devil Fruit user, she sure is considerate… and shy. _Brook gave her a small smile, trying not to laugh at the girl's expense, though it was rather difficult not to."No. They're over in the corner. Though I will say that you pack quite a punch for such a skinny little thing."

His grin couldn't help splitting wider as the grey-haired girl suddenly jumped on top of her chair, proclaiming herself the tallest. Brook chuckled as he stood up, easily passing her duplicitously acquired height boost.

_Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

…...

Merle is subject to nightmares, as are most people with any degree of imagination.


	4. Chapter 4

**Tiger Lilies Herald The Coming Of A Lion! The Thousand Sunny Reaches The Shores Of Ink Corner!**

…

_As Brook's grin spread wider, Merle couldn't help but smile as she looked down on him from the top of the chair. But when he stood up, rendering her cheating a moot point, she forced on an over the top frown onto her face, in attempt to make him laugh as… what? Recompense for beating her at a juvenile game?_

_The small success felt wonderful as his chuckle banished the silence from the library and there was no denying that Brook had managed to bring out a bit of childish glee from the seemingly emotionless Merle. She enjoyed his presence more in the last twenty-four hours than anyone else she had ever met in her life._

…

_Time passed, four months to be exact. On the small Fall Island of Ink Corner (or Sumi Sumi, depending upon your map) the snow shed by the last week of Winter melted and became Spring, which in turn gave way into Summer. The Tiger Lilies bloomed and so did the friendship between the artist and the musician. The island was peaceful and nothing of great note happened._

_But, as any pirate who's been there will tell you, any peace to be found in the New World is as fleeting and tremulous as a soap bubble._

…

"NAMI!"

A flash of bright red, blue and yellow danced across the deck of the equally vibrantly colored ship that was cruising along the Grand Line. It moved with a wild, excited purpose, towards a woman with long orange hair who sat at a table scribbling down various notes concerning the weather.

Nami turned to look at the young man with his almost permanent grim, the aforementioned flashed of red, blue and yellow, who was yelling at her. It wasn't yelling in the traditional sense of aggressive intent, it was just yelling as far as volume was concerned. She sighed. "Luffy, the log pose says that we aren't going to even see an island for another hour or so…"

Monkey D. Luffy smile widened as he jumped up onto the railing in the same manner as his namesake. "But there's an island right there!" At this news, Nami's expression shifted from bored to surprised. A quiet laugh came from the other side of the table, where a raven haired beauty sat sipping at a fruit cocktail.

"It wouldn't be unheard of for an island that small to hide in the magnetic shadow of a much larger one." Robin said, her sphinx-like smile never leaving her face, even as Nami's incredulous expression became steadily more helpless as Luffy talked everyone into visiting the 'mystery island'.

…

Brook ran through a series of basic kata in the small gym room that Merle had helped him assemble, trying to shake off the persistent shiver that had been plaguing him ever since he had woken up that morning. As he increased his speed to blindingly fast levels, a faint sheen of sweat coated his body, reflecting the morning sunlight that poured through the open window.

Unlike when he had been living in the city, with the constant threat of violence, starvation or some other nasty end, the manor house was a never threatening, and Brook could relax, at least as much as one could relax while on the Grand Line. It didn't mean that he let his fencing skills deteriorate, no. He had chosen to keep up those skills, even going so far as to teach Merle some fighting skills. Not that she had needed much instruction, especially in unarmed combat.

Brook had been both amazed and more than a little sad that the girl, who had never struck him as someone who had to resort to fist fights, could match him and even defeat him in hand to hand combat. Merle cheated, of course, but that was the key to real world application. You took what advantages you had, used them and made as many more as it took to win. That was survival, and anyone who had spent any time living on the streets learned it or died trying.

As Brook put the weighted training sword back on the storage rack, a spasm of pain ripped through his body, dropping his body to the floor and his mind into unconsciousness. His last thought before dropping into darkness was one of confusion.

…

Merle had been sitting among her tiger lilies, admiring the sea, trying to name the brilliant blue that sparkled with the bright sun, when she had seen the pirate ship. She knew that it was the ship of the Straw Hat Pirates, because what other ship could be flying those colors? As the Thousand Sunny's course turned towards the island, a trill of fear ran through Merle's heart. _I can't let them find Brook, _she thought as she raced towards the training room.

The sight of Brook on the ground, unconscious and breathing heavily, the luminescent blush of fever coloring his face and turning his breath into little clouds of steam in the crisp morning air, stopped her racing heart cold.

"Brook!" Merle's cries cut through the silence of the mansion, the edge of the desperation in her voice slicing through the dead stillness like a sword. "Brook! Wake up! Brook!"

…

"Brook!"

The gentleman skeleton turned to his captain. "Yes, Luffy-san?" The captain of the Straw Hat Pirates flashed one of his signature grins. "What sort of things do you think we'll find on the mystery island?"

"Hopefully some beautiful ladies who will show me their panties, yohohoho~!" Everyone but Nami, Sanji and Zoro joined in the cascade of laughter that followed, though Sanji and Zoro both managed to crack a smile at the musician's joke.

…

Merle couldn't cry. She might have, but the ability had always evaded her, even at the loss of her father, who was precious and foreign to her all at once. Even as she felt Brook stir in her arms, she couldn't manage tears, though her relief was obvious.

"Merle-san…" His voice sounded cracked and weary, like the voice of a desert traveler who has just survived his journey to the next oasis. "Merle-san… if you'd loosen your grip a touch…" A hint of a smile danced in Brook's voice, though the weariness remained.

She stood, pulling him to her shoulder. Merle tried to get a good grip on Brook, a difficult job with such a lanky person, before half-guiding, half-pulling him into the hallway. Her eyes focused ahead of her, fixed on taking the next step that would bring them closer to the bedrooms while she explained what she had seen earlier. "We need to get you to your room. Better yet, I'll just put you in my room. Stay in bed and I'll be in to take care of you later. Right now, I've got to get those pirates away from the island."

…

Despite, or maybe because of, his fevered mind, Brook had retained enough clarity to realize that Merle was no longer taking him to his room, instead directing his leaden feet to her bedroom. _An interesting development indeed…_ He thought with a delirious chuckle. _Perhaps I should get sick more often… Yohohoho…_

She lay him into the bed and wrapped him in blankets, one of which she draped over his head to hide his afro and scar. Merle kept trying to get him to focus, though his thoughts kept wandering back to the fact that he was alone in a girl's bedroom, aside for the most important component of a girl's bedroom; the girl herself. "If one of them walks in, alter your voice and keep your head down. You're sick and that means you sleep and drink plenty of water. That side door there leads to a small bathroom if you need to refill your glass or use the toilet." Merle was in his face now, pointing at him as if she was relying on him to remember all of the information she had just thrown at him.

A small voice whispered into Brook's ear, _At this moment, the next logical step would be to initiate physical contact. _He reached out, fingering some of Merle's wild hair in the few seconds it took before she realized what he was doing and drew back in… _Confusion? Uncertainty? Embarrassment? _Merle was hard to read correctly under the best of circumstances; the most Brook could do normally was just test to see what she reacted to.

Brook smiled as he looked at her, leaning in to compensate for the space Merle had put between them, even as his frazzled mind made a half-conscious note that as soon as all of his faculties returned, he would be screaming at himself internally for complicating the good thing that he had going.

…

Brook touching her hair was odd, and rather startling. Merle wanted to chalk it up to the fever addling his brain, but almost nothing done in an altered state of mind arouse spontaneously. There was always some seed of intent that, assisted by alcohol, high fever or pumping adrenaline, could result in behavior that would seem outrageous in the harsh reality of the day but all too reasonable by the light of the night.

Merle's shocked expression faltered a bit as Brook watched her, only settling in a mild smile as Brook sneezed, rocking himself backwards from the force of it. She playfully pushed him down into the sea of pillows and blankets, her smile growing as the musician was briefly swamped by the variously colored fabrics. "I'll come back with some soup after I deal with the pirates, alright?" As she closed the door behind her, Merle could have sworn that the 'amicable' and 'gentlemanly' young Brook was making faces at her as she left the room.

…

As the Sunny Go approached the island, the resident sniper noticed something through a telescopic tense. "Oi, Nami!" Usopp called down from his perch. Nami looked up to where he sat in the rigging. "What is it Usopp? Marines?" His reply was kind of unexpected. "No, there's nothing. Seriously, the island doesn't look like it's inhabited. All there is this old mansion and it doesn't really look like anyone is living…" His tune changed abruptly as he spied a grey haired figure with a strange see-through veil trailing behind it, running to the house with a bucket that was full of water. "Ah! There **is** a someone there!"

Everyone's ears perked up at this, apart from Brook, who, being a skeleton, had no ears to perk, and Zoro who was already asleep again. "Please tell me it was a beautiful lady!" Sanji sang as he spun around the deck, hearts materializing around the him as he went.

Usopp shook his head, his expression flat. "Oi, oi, oi. Don't get ahead of yourself, Sanji. I saw grey hair and some sort of netting. Other than that, I have no idea if the person is even a woman." Luffy jumped to the railing. "I have decided!" The rest of the crew moaned internally, knowing exactly what the next words out of their captain's mouth would be.

"THE MYSTERY GREY HAIR NETTING WILL BECOME OUR NAKAMA!" "LUFFY, YOU HAVEN'T EVEN **MET** THE PERSON YET!" The ensuing dope slap was a group effort.

…...

And so the Straw Hats have entered the story proper.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Straw Hat Pirates Arrive! Who Is This Strange Person And What Are They Hiding?**

…

"_I have decided! THE MYSTERY GREY HAIR NETTING WILL BECOME OUR NAKAMA!" Luffy raised his firsts to the sky in his exuberance, only to be karate chopped by all but three of his nakama. "LUFFY, YOU HAVEN'T EVEN __**MET**__ THE PERSON YET!"_

_The skeletal musician had just looked on as the antics of his friends escalated, happy just to bask in the lively atmosphere that permeated the Thousand Sunny once again. On a whim, Brook looked towards the island they were fast approaching, remembering what Usopp had said about the one person he had seen on the otherwise deserted speck of an island._

…

After Merle had finished refilled the pitcher in the bedroom with her freshly collected spring water, she checked the thermometer that she had fought to get into Brook's mouth a few minutes before, scribbling down the numbers on a scrap piece of paper. _104 degrees F… _"Your fever's gone down a little bit, Brook, but you need to rest…"

Merle's even and caring tone disappeared as Brook shoved his feverish face into the crook of her neck, his attempt at seductive nuzzling only serving to annoy the object of his advances. "Stop trying to get me sick too! I hate to think of what you were like as a child and running a fever!"

Brook laughed drunkenly, though he backed off for the moment. Merle scowled at him as she left the room, shutting the door firmly behind her before the musician could do anything else. The upshot of his perverted behavior was that nobody could mistake this… libido-driven man-child for a world famous musician and swordsman pushing ninety.

…

_Why does this crew keep attracting such weirdoes?_ Nami had asked herself the question several times over the course of their adventures. She could live with Luffy, who had once been at the extreme end of her tolerance of the bizarre, but then the captain had absolutely **insisted** on recruiting both the perverted cyborg shipwright obsessed with cola and the skeletal man-child musician obsessed with women's underwear. It wasn't that they didn't pull their weight, it's just… _Why couldn't we get somebody like Robin. Somebody who wasn't __**insane**__ or obsessed with weird stuff. _Besides Usopp, that was.

The navigator shook her head as Luffy began running through his repertoire of bad imitations, with Robin and Brook providing the occasional assist, as when the elastic captain desired to mimic Chopper or something beyond the means of his unusual anatomy.

Nami, though occasionally amused by her captain's antics, was not terribly amused by Luffy's imitation of Hachi, achieved though the assistance of a certain archeologist. "Robin, stop enabling him." A quiet chuckle was the only response Nami received as Luffy went on to his 'Smokey' imitation.

…

Though Merle couldn't see it, Brook was having a crisis of self at the moment. As his fever dwindled, his rational self began regaining consciousness, though not enough to have complete control over his behavior, only to discover the supposed destruction of his and Merle's relationship as he replayed the memories of the last few hours. _What happened? Whoa, no! I kissed her? ON THE NECK?_

In his mental world, Brook turned to the only creature there he knew that could and would sabotage him like this. _Ryu-domo! What the hell were you thinking? Did you even bother to consider the consequences of… of doing THAT to HER? Of you doing __**anything at all!**_

The personification and overall collection of Brook's impulses couldn't care less about these immaterial 'consequences'. Ryu examined his bloodless knuckles as he was being screamed at, dismissing Brook as easily as a one would dismiss a buzzing gnat. _It wasn't like you were going to make any moves in this lifetime, makeinu-san. I just gave you a little __**push**__ while you were out of it._

When Brook failed to do anything more than scowl at his ne'er-do-well doppelganger, Ryu walked into the swirling mist of Brook's subconscious mind, but not before punching Brook in the arm as he passed. _Think of it as a gift of sorts. At least now the girl knows that you're human._

…

Merle sat in what she hoped was a good hiding place, a pencil and pad of paper in hand. As she quickly sketched out the basic shape of a person, she kept tabs on the Thousand Sunny as it drew nearer and nearer._ I can't believe that I'm calling him here for this… Hopefully the jiisan will be willing and able to help me out here…_ She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought. Even if he couldn't help her directly, jiisan would at give her some advice. The old man had never let her down before.

As she sketched in the final details of his bird mask, carefully filling in the texture of the goat horns that pointed backwards at an even angle to the beak, she wondered how she had pulled this masked man with his silver mane from a single page description of her family's founder, who, having extremely flawed eyesight and an inclination to wearing bird masks, apparently had a variety of super powers, varying from 'strength like that of a giant', 'breathe that could freeze rivers and turn men to stone' to the possession of a magic rock that would turn into a poisonous eel-monster when splashed with water.

What more proof did she need to confirm the belief that her father's family was bat-shit insane and had embraced the idea centuries ago? _Not that I mind. _Merle thought with a smile as she began summoning the ancient magician Demoiselle Raith. _A bit of madness is good for the soul._

…

Luffy ran around the beach, making the odd attempt to run up the sides of the sheer limestone cliffs and teasing any hermit crabs that he came across, even as Sanji and Zoro began another argument, this time about a small green, globular plant that Usopp had found in a small pool.

"Why are you shoving that thing into my face, curly brow?" "You shitty swordsman! Is that anyway to talk about of one of your kinsmen?" The hiss of steel being drawn could be heard, though the crew was long desensitized to it. "Idiot cook, can't you see that what you're holding is a piece of green algae?" The sound of blows being exchanged failed to disturb the overall bouncy mood that pervaded the beach.

Brook sat on what was once a safety buoy, long since drifted ashore after being cut loose many years before their arrival. It was a comfortable enough seat, the thick iron not even close to rusting through. As he absently strummed his guitar, a flash of silver hair from the top of the cliff caught his eye. _Although I do not have eyes for something to catch, yohohoho_.

Luffy had seen it too and had jumped onto a large rock, apparently trying to get the silver flash to pay attention to his soon-to-be captain. "MYSTERY GREY HAIR NETTING! BECOME MY NAKA-" His shout was cut off as Nami punched him into the sand. "URUSAI!" As she pulled Luffy out of the sand, the rubber man now sporting a large bruise on his head, to yell at him some more, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that stopped her lecture in her throat.

The silver haired person was sliding down the side of the cliff on his heels, as casually as a man riding the down escalator would be. His face was concealed by a large beaked mask adorned with a pair of long goat horns, more than slightly reminiscent of a plague doctor's, and his hands were clad in heavy steel gauntlets that were decorated with a myriad pattern of interlocking patterns.

Other than those two things, the man also wore a multitude of blood red ribbon scarves and a pair of black Cuban heeled boots, while the rest of the silver haired man's body was concealed in a lead grey cloak, frayed at the edges and unwilling to offer any clear view of the man's body above his knees, which were clad in black.

The beach sat in silence for a long time, neither the Straw Hats or the silver haired man making any noise. Finally the cloaked man spoke, his voice bearing a strange accent that even Robin couldn't place.

"It's a rare day when someone knocks on my door. What business have ye with me?"

…

_Demoiselle Raith sat quietly under the tree next to Merle, listening politely as she explained what was going on. It had always been this way, even before she had gotten her Devil Fruit powers. She would confess her worries and problems and Raith would offer up sage wisdom and a sense of perspective._

"_I've got a potential crisis on my hands here, Jiisan." Merle couldn't see it, but Raith was smiling as he patted down a stay lock of her hair. His favorite little blackbird had no idea how small some of these problems of hers would look in retrospect. "Ach, I'll see what I can do, lonín. But no promises."_

…

As Raith looked at the rag-tag band of adventurers, he couldn't help wondering why Merle had been so concerned. There wasn't a lick of malicious intent between the lot of them, though they were smart enough to be wary of strange men wearing masks. A pleased smile spread under his mask. He could have some real fun with this.

The boy in the straw hat stepped forward, his expression dead serious and completely focused on Raith. Before the magician could properly react, the boy was in his face, a not inconsiderable feet taking into account that the silver haired man was close to seven feet tall.

…

"BE MY NAKAMA, MYSTERY GUY!" Luffy yelled, no, **roared** into the masked man's face.

The cloaked man stepped back from the rubber man, seemingly shocked speechless by the Straw Hat captain's fearless approach. Nami couldn't really blame him.

…...

Ryu (who may or may not be Ryuuma, so draw your own conclusions) is the personification of Brook's Id (Freudian psychology, so if you don't know, ask the internet).

Brook refers to Ryu with the honorific _-domo_ to indicate Ryu as being nothing but a collection of impulses and instincts, to be treated lowly.

Wikipedia's definition: _domo_ ex. _watakushi-domo, usable for either gender, _Casts some aspersion on the mentioned group, so it can be rude.

Makeinu - Loser, underdog.

Forewarning - Raith is probably going to pepper his speech generously with Gaelic, which he has already begun doing. I'll post meanings and intended meanings below. Also, try imagining his voice as being somewhere between Sean Connery and Sheogorath.

Raith's character is based on the mythological figure known as Mug Ruith, or Mogh Roith. He (Mug Ruith) has his own Wikipedia page, if you are interested in learning more.

Lonín - This was something I went out on a limb on, and I may or may not have made up a new word. I used _lon _(meaning 'blackbird') and _ín (a diminutive used in name) to create Raith's nickname for Merle, which I meant to have translate to 'Little Blackbird'._


	6. Chapter 6

**What Did He Say? Have The Crane And Zoro Become Friends?**

…

"_BE MY NAKAMA, MYSTERY GUY!" _

_The words had taken him off guard, Raith would admit. The offer of becoming this boy's 'nakama', no matter what the word truly meant, was unexpected and, judging by the reactions of his companions, a most likely permanent position with their group. Most would not offer such a thing so quickly, so the boy must either be a lucky simpleton or an excellent judge of worth to have survived as long in this dangerous sea as his lonín had told him._

_His attention flickered to the dark haired woman, who hadn't even reacted to the boy's action. The fae lady knows the lesson well then. Then she would be the first he would address. "Eist moran agus can began, bean-shithe!"_

_From the reaction he had gotten from her, Raith might as well have been speaking the language of the birds. _

…

Sanji's visible eye twitched as the silver bastard hissed some sort of spell at his beloved Robin-chwan. _How dare he. _The cook thought with an increasing fury. _How dare this evil sorcerer try to weave his spell on Robin-chwan! _The thought continued smoldering in his fiery heart, though Robin didn't seem to be affected by the shitty mask's incantation. Sanji would still get him back for it and he would regret saying… whatever the hell it was to one of the cook's precious ladies.

…

Robin was confused by the language that the masked man was speaking, though she was positive that whatever he had said had been directed at her. _Perhaps he mistook me for someone who would know what he was saying and how to reply?_ The dissatisfied noise that he had made when she had failed to react to whatever he had said seemed to indicate that it was a distinct possibility.

…

The masked man was an odd one. Maybe even odder than Brook, though at least this weirdo wasn't asking to see her underwear. Nami could probably take having the silver haired man as a nakama… if only he would speak in English instead of that freaky hissing language from Hell.

Almost as if reading her thoughts, the man began speaking in recognizable, though loud and overly dramatic, words. "So, ye are not from any place betwixt the isle of Gaelligar, the city of Passwall, the Fringe Archipelago, or the Eire Kingdom. I'm afraid I'm still left with the impression that your education is sorely lackin' if you do not understand beautiful sound of the Gaelic tongue."

"What was it that you said to me just a minute ago, kamen-san?" Robin was smiling again, apparently highly amused by the language of demons. The masked man complied flawlessly as if expecting her question.

"Hear much and speak little, woman of the Fae. Though if you do not understand the tongue, I was sadly mistaken in my titling of you. It's been far too long since my last conference with a member of the Seelie Court." His tone sounded faintly wistful towards the end, though Nami was still in the dark as to what the man was referring to. _The places he named aren't any __**I've**__ ever heard of and this 'Sealy Court'... If he's a madman, he's certainly an imaginative one._

…

Merle had returned to the manor after Jiisan had told her that he would deal with the visitors, intent on keeping her Brook under control. _At least until the Straw Hats leave,_ she thought wearily as her patient, whose condition had worsened slightly in her brief absence, began insisting that Merle give him his soup via mouth to mouth so that it wouldn't be contaminated by ghosts. She prayed that this was a simple twenty-four hour bug.

…

Within the next ten minutes, the great sorcerer Demoiselle Raith was deeply regretting approaching the Straw Hat Pirates in a friendly fashion. Already Luffy had attached himself to Raith, constantly reaching for his mask and squeezing the life out of his arm.

He had been cornered into a formal introduction and, most awkward of all, the skeleton had begun to strike up a rapport with him. _Calamity upon this man for making this masquerade so difficult!_

"Oi." Raith's attention flickered to the green haired swordsman, who stood with a bottle of alcohol in hand. "Do you want some sake or what? The witch said that I couldn't drink all of it."

_Ah, alcohol. One of the greatest gifts ever given to mankind. Though I've never had this 'sa-kay' before…_ Raith's exploratory nature had a habit getting the best of him whenever inebriation was an option. The silver haired man's mischievous grin could bee seen for the first time as he pulled off his mask. "You'd better believe it, boy."

…

Luffy was amazed, not only at the volume of booze that Raith was putting away and how very mundane the man's face looked, but also the fact that the old man did not, as he had hoped when he had seen him, have horns on his head. The goat horns had been attached to the bird mask and, as Luffy found out when he put it on, helped to balance out the weight of the beak. "Oi, Nami, look, I'm a crane! WHOO-DUGUGUGU~!"

"Luffy! Shut up and put that thing down!"

…

Zoro didn't know much of anything about this Demoiselle Raith yet, but he had figured this much out; the old man could match pace with him in a drinking contest, something that only Nami had ever managed before, and that quantified a degree of respect in Roronoa's book.

_And the ero-cook seems to hate him already, too. _The green haired swordsman smirked as he downed the last of his fifteenth bottle, watching Sanji glower at the cloaked man through the corner of his good eye. Uncorking a fresh bottle, Zoro kept his good eye on the cook, waiting for his temper to finally boil over, the dark smile on his face spreading as his sense of anticipation increased. _This is going to be a hell of a show._

…

Sanji found new reasons to dislike this mystery cloak as the evening wore on. This older man, a self-professed 'practitioner of magics beyond your ken', kept talking to Robin-chan and Nami-san, occasionally slipping into other languages that the cook had no grasp of, though clearly Robin-chwan did, as she laughed quite often at whatever the shitty crane had said.

The fiery cook seethed quietly, his gritting teeth beginning to shred the butt of his cigarette. _I wonder if the silver bastard would like to flirt with the soles of my shoes?_

As he watched Raith finish off yet another bottle of sake, only to open another with a strange shout ("Slainte!"), he wondered if the cloaked man would actually join the crew.

…

Brook watched as the number of empty bottles multiplied, happy that he had not been invited to partake in the contest. He had never possessed a strong tolerance for alcohol, something that Captain Yorki would take advantage of at every opportunity.

The skeleton thought it odd that Raith-san failed to acknowledge him as being any less than normal. That was, at least, until Luffy had passed the crane mask to Chopper, who had taken a single look through and discovered prescription lenses. _Prescription lenses?_ Brook thought as he peered through the glass, though not putting the mask on for fear that the horns would get caught in his afro. Well that certainly explained a bit.

He jumped as the man whose mask he held seated himself alongside of him, a half-empty bottle of sake in hand. Leaning on Brook's thin shoulder, Raith did not hesitate as he put his mouth to where the skeleton's ear once was, just to tell Brook something that seemed profound to the untrained ear. "Tha eagal orm that tha smùid orm, mon frère squelettique."

"Excuse me?" For once, Brook's reaction was perfectly normal for someone who was having a perfect stranger with alcohol on their breath loudly whispering to them in half-recognizable speech.

Robin smiled from the other side of the campfire that Luffy had insisted on building as soon as dusk had fallen, as did Sanji, because while he still didn't much care for Raith and Robin's mystery conversations, he could appreciate the humor of someone out-weirding one of the crew's most overt oddities.

"Soyez gentil avec moi." The silver haired man then fell asleep on Brook's arm without a further word. Brook's shrill cry could be heard all the way to the manor. "Eeeeehhh? Why?"

…

"Well, why not?"

Merle turned back to Brook, whose pouting face could just be seen over the mountain of blankets that she had just dumped on him, rolling her eyes at his latest attempt at getting her to share the bed with him. "Suffice to say that your behavior today has pushed me to the edge of my endurance, Brook-san. I couldn't take another five minutes of you today if you paid me."

Before she closed the door, Merle looked at him once more, the irritation that was previously in her eyes replaced with a quiet sadness. "Focused on getting better, okay? I don't want to lose you too."

…...

The reason why Raith is unfamiliar with the concept of nakama (and sake) is that Merle is unfamiliar with it as well. Though he knows some things she doesn't, most of his knowledge she expected from him when creating his personality.

Kamen - Mask.

The noise that Luffy was making was a really bad imitation of a sand hill crane.

When Raith is speaking to Brook, Brook is able to understand the parts in French, but not those in Gaelic. I thought it made sense, as many of Brook's attacks are named in French. It's the same with Robin and Sanji.

Gaelic (and other things that Raith says):

Eist moran agus can began. - Hear much and say little.

bean-shithe - fairy woman / banshee.

Fae - Fairy (actually a French term)

Ken - Knowing, understanding.

Slainte - Cheers.

Tha eagal orm - I'm afraid / I'm sorry to say

Tha smùid orm - I'm drunk.

Mon frère squelettique - My skeletal brother (French).

Soyez gentil avec moi. - Be gentle with me. (French)


	7. Chapter 7

**The Masquerade Begins To Fail! Who Is Chopper's Mystery Patient?**

…

_Brook watched Merle go to the door, his eyes focused on her as she paused, her free hand tracing its way down the patterns of wood to the brass handle in silence. "Focused on getting better, okay? I don't want to lose you too."_

_Her suddenly subdued behavior and quiet words stung somehow, much worse than any of her complaints about his earlier conduct, and that sting brought a moment of clarity to Brook's feverish mind. He tried to sit up, to say something, anything to apologize to her… but she was already gone, not even making a sound as she went to the kitchen to wash the dishes._

_He rolled over, hiding his face in the pillow as sweat coursed down his back. As he tried to go to sleep, Brook hoped that he would be well enough the next day to begin making amends. _

…

Raith was poked awake by the little pooka he had seen the night before. It had squeaked with surprise when he had gotten up without so much of a groan; perhaps it had expected him to be hung over from the previous night's festivities. "So what did ye want of me, little one?"

…

Chopper jumped as Raith rose to his feet. The man had drained over twenty-five bottles of sake the night before, but didn't seem to have suffered any ill-effects. "Raith! You said something last night about your 'precious lonín playing the nightingale to her sick pretty boy'. What was that all about?"

The silver haired man's tone was dismissive, though more towards the subject of the conversation rather than to Chopper. "Ach, don't bother with it, little shape changer. It's jus' a fever. No one I've ever known ever died of that alone."

The doctor shifted to his heavy point, his eyes now level with the magician's and his voice firm. "I'm the doctor here, so I'll decide whether or not he needs medical attention."

Instead of arguing, Raith just chuckled as he walked to a set of steps leading up to the main level of the island. "Very well then, dochtuir. If you'd like to wake the others, we can go up to the manor house."

…

Merle tended to her tiger lilies, offering them a cool shower of water to tide them through until the next day. As Raith approached, she put down the can so that she could embrace him, but the embrace turned icy as she caught sight of the Straw Hats.

"Jiisan," She hissed into his ear, "You were supposed to get rid of them, not invite them for lunch."

A look of embarrassment crossed his face. "They had alcohol, lonín. Ye expect me to turn down free liquor? B'sides, they aren't that bad. They did the fish stick with me!"

Merle sighed. This was going to be a long day.

…

Chopper looked up to the grey haired girl, his medical supplies ready in his backpack. "Okay, take me to the sick person!" As he saw her eye twitch behind her glasses, the little reindeer quickly explained his Devil Fruit ability.

With a flat, strangled voice, she finally spoke to him. "That's not the problem." The girl turned to Raith, her stiff body language broadcasting her fried patience and barely restrained irritation, as she addressed the magician.

"Jiisan."

Raith started gesticulating wildly, obviously worried about what the grey haired girl would do next. "Th-tha mi duilich, lonín! It just sort of slipped out when we were drinking last night! How was I to know that the little guy was so devoted to his profession?"

…

Merle felt her eye twitch again, though she managed to put a smile on her face again. "Well, at least a doctor can help out with Br…" _I need a name, any name… _"Bryant. He's been running a high fever since last morning and I'd appreciate a second opinion, since I'm not a trained medical practitioner. I'm Merle, by the way."

The little reindeer reached up to shake her hand, then began doing an odd little dance. "My name's Tony Tony Chopper and you valuing my opinion doesn't make me happy, you bastard!" _But he looks really happy…_

As she led the group into her house, the thought of how the hell she was ever going to get them out again crossed her mind.

…

Usopp entered the house with a sense of apprehension. This girl Merle had intimidated Raith, who as far as the sniper knew, talked to demons and the like regularly. _Plus those eyes…_

He squeaked a little as the girl chose that second to look at him, her pansy purple eyes drilling into his with all the mercy of a machine. _Did she hear my thoughts? She's just as scary as Robin used to be…_

The sniper sighed in relief as the grey haired girl began to climb a spiral stairway, apparently to the place where the sick person was resting. Thankfully it wasn't a place that he had to go.

…

Chopper had followed a few steps behind Merle as the girl had led the way to this 'Bryant's' room. The doctor had the feeling that she had given him a false name, but still wasn't sure of if calling her out on it would be appropriate. Maybe after he inspected the patient…

As the reindeer stepped into the room, he saw the grey haired girl leaning over the sleeping patient, placing a fresh damp cloth that she had placed on his forehead. _Basic medical care. Though it's better than nothing…_

Merle turned to look at Chopper, a slightly worried look dominating her expression. "Do you need me in here? I'd like to keep an eye on the other guests for a while…" Chopper waved her away, saying cheerfully that he could handle it.

…

Sanji waited in the foyer for Merle-chan to return. _Even though she is sort of an intimidating presence,_ the cook thought to himself with a goofy smile, _Merle-chwan is still a beauty. _As the grey haired girl appeared, a storm of hearts erupted around the chef. "MELLORINE~!"

As he spun around her, Sanji noticed that she actually seemed shocked by his attentions for a moment. _So her 'Bryant' has failed as a gentleman, not giving his flower enough attention! Then it is no crime for this pirate to take this jewel away from him. _

"Merle-chwan~!-" Merle quickly placed her hand in between them, her stoic expression renewed, cutting Sanji off with the gesture. "Not interested."

Brook looked up from his tea to laugh at the sight of Sanji's colorless face as the cook drooped to the floor. "Sh-She didn't even let me finish… Nami-san always let me finish…"

…

Robin found the library very quickly, and was reading an art book on ink styles as one of her full body clones looked through some of the loose papers.

_These are some very good drawings. Merle-san has powerful talent… _A large piece of paper caught Robin's eye. As she walked over, she noticed that while there were the sketchy lines that would be around a drawing, the space within them was clean, as if the picture had been cut out with a knife and the paper had been restored with a fresh surface. _Interesting… considering that none of the other pieces were abstract._

…

The skeleton sipped at his tea as the grey haired girl poured herself a cup. "Bad day?" Brook inquired. Merle snorted. "If you count taking care of a sick guy who can barely sit himself upright and keeps hitting on you, maintaining a decaying manor house and finding out that your jiisan has spontaneously called a crew of pirates up for a house party as a bad day, then yes, I'm having a bad day. But this is some good tea. You brewed it yourself?"

The musician nodded. "Yes. It's a recipe that an old friend of mine gave me. Sort of everything and nothing all at once. Gikkingen was always so clever when it came to tea…" They sat in silence, with Brook for once not asking to see a woman's panties.

…

As Chopper examined the patient, he couldn't help but wonder if his interference was even necessary. _Just as Raith-san said, it looks like a simple fever… but from these notes that Merle has been taking, it hasn't broken in the last twenty-four hours… I'll see if I can get him to take this medicine before I go downstairs..._

Chopper poked the man in his long, skinny arm, prompting his patient to roll over onto his side, though he did wake up without further prompting. "Mnaaa… Merle-san… Why are you a tanuki today?…" Chopper ground his teeth. "I'm not a tanuki, I'm a reindeer!" "Ah, sorry. Merle-san, why are you a reindeer today?" The voice was familiar to the reindeer, but so close he couldn't really put a name to it.

"I'm not Merle! I'm Chopper! Brook-" Chopper froze as he said the name, his face a perfect picture of shock. "B-Br-Brook!" The man in the bed confirmed that, yes his name was Brook and no, it wasn't just a girl's name, though the doctor hadn't really been asking.

Chopper quickly removed the damp cloth from his patient's forehead and saw something that only confirmed what he had begun to suspect.

The long, twisting scar that the Brook he knew carried even in death.

…...

Pooka - a nature spirit / fairy, known for its shape shifting abilities, mostly taking the forms of animals. They are also capable of human speech.

Dochtuir - Doctor.

Tha mi duilich - I'm sorry!

So Chopper has found out the truth! What ever shall happen next?


	8. Chapter 8

**Another Brook? The Artist's Ability Is Found Out!**

…

"_B-Br-Brook!" _

_Chopper's jaw dropped in shock. How was this even possible? Another, though clearly younger, Brook? Was this some weird Devil Fru-_

_Slow down, a rational voice in Chopper's head said. Think this through. This could be another person named Brook, a completely different person. With the same afro and build… and the same scar… The little voice began loosing its rational edge as it listed the growing mountain of evidence arguing against its explanation. The same voice… Facial structure…_

_The doctor began panicking again. Eeeh! It is the same person! I need to tell somebody!_

_As Chopper shifted to his running point, ready to dash out the door and to wherever Robin was, because she would know what to do, he stopped cold as Brook coughed. He shifted back to his Brain Point, calmly walking over to the bed with some capsules and instructions, his responsibilities as a doctor taking priority over some rather confusing questions. "Take these. They'll help with the fever. Other than your high temperature, there doesn't seem to be anything else wrong with you, so just stay in bed and rest."_

_Brook gulped at his glass of water after shoving the pills into his mouth. "Thank you, Chopper-san was it? I've got to get over this soon." Chopper's ears perked as he leaned on the bed, prompting the sick man to smile._

"_Why? It's not like there's a lot to do on an island this small."_

_Brook laughed. "That's true enough, though…" His sunny expression faded to a much more somber one as he tried to find the words. "Merle-san isn't… good by herself. She needs to have someone there to help her, to stabilize her. So I do."_

_The little doctor nodded, even as he was struck by a thought. "What about Raith?"_

_Another burst of laughter. "Raith-san is about as stable as a rowboat in a hurricane. He's wild and unpredictable, though a nice enough person if you're friends with him or Merle. No, I have to be here for Merle-san as an..." Again, Brook seemed to be searching for the right word. "Anchor. I have to protect her. To keep her grounded and… human, for lack of a better word."_

…

Robin continued looking through the library, now skimming through a series of notebooks. One line, written in a strong, clear, though somehow familiar hand, caught her eye.

'If you hand a man a power reserved for the gods, it is not long before he goes mad; driven by either his own ego or driven by the egos of those who would control him. Without a counter-balance, nothing but ruin awaits.'

_Interesting philosophy. _Robin thought as she flipped through the remaining pages_. It may not be __**completely**__ accurate, but it reveals an unique thought process. To pity those given the power of the gods… implies that the writer knows one such person._

The next page that she stopped on was a snippet of music. _Perhaps Brook-san would be able to enlighten me on this… _

A loud ruckus distracted her attention. _Never a dull moment… _Robin thought with a smile.

…

Merle sat quietly, her eyes closed, trying to hone in on the sound of this other Brook. It was a difficult task, as Sanji had recovered from her blunt refusal and was now trying to curry favor with assorted delicacies that he had begun making as soon as he had located the kitchen.

"Merle-swan~! I have prepared for you some raspberry tortes- Nami-swan, would you like some as well?" She sighed as Sanji dashed over to the navigator once more, getting up from her chair as smoothly as possible. Merle was never one for being the center of attention, and having a love-struck pirate chef constantly fawning over her was really wearing on her nerves. Besides, she wanted to check on her Brook.

…

As the grey haired girl rose from her chair, Brook rose to meet her, following her up the stairs with a light tread as not to alert Sanji-san, who was busy with Nami-san.

He swept his hat off of his head, bowing at the waist in the process. "Merle-san."

Her violet eyes flickered to him and he saw the tension that had been building with every new entrée that Sanji-san had brought ease a little, though it came roaring back as he asked his customary question.

The sound of his skull smashing into a nearby wall must have echoed throughout the manor house.

As Brook sat up, the side of his face aching, though he did not have a face, he noticed pair of bare feet besides Merle's. When he looked up though, he could have sworn that his eyes would have popped out of his head if he still had any.

Another Brook, albeit much, **much** younger and obviously under the weather, was standing next to the grey-haired girl, sense of righteous fury conveyed in his posture as he cracked his knuckles in preparation for another swing.

…

_How dare this skeleton mask ask something like that of Merle-san. _His anger roiled in his stomach as he popped his knuckles. _**How dare he-**__. _Brook flinched as Merle placed her hand gingerly on his arm, the touch of her cool fingers almost as shocking as the feel of cold steel on his feverish skin.

Merle's voice was hushed and worn as she spoke. "This sort of thing is rather uncharacteristic of you, Brook-san." Her eyes flickered with concern and worry as she looked up to him, not paying any attention to the remaining Straw Hats who were now flooding into the tight hallway. "You should be in bed-." She started as Brook pitched forward, no longer able to stand now that his rush of adrenaline was spent.

_Merle-san… _He saw her move into a position to catch him just as he blacked out.

…

Reality seemed to slow down for a sick moment to Merle's mind as Brook began falling forward.

_No. Not this. Not now. _She slid around to his front, guiding his arms to rest on her shoulders, hoping that the situation wouldn't implode at this moment. Later would be tolerable, but right now, Merle was at the end of her rope.

As Brook's full weight began to settle on her, Merle felt her legs buckle a little. She wasn't built for heavy lifting. A pair of strong hands snaked in and under Brook's body.

Merle turned to her unexpected help, her eyes widening as she saw Luffy smiling brightly.

"Why?" The words were dry and disbelieving as the infamous captain of the Straw Hat Pirates slung the limp form of her friend over his shoulder.

The sunshine bright smile grew as Luffy walked over to the open bedroom door. "I didn't want you to drop the mystery Brook. Shishishishi! This is the right room, right?" He opened the door with his foot before Merle could answer.

"I think it is! Hey! Look, Chopper! Action figures!"

…

Robin had been surprised by Brook's double and his apparent over protectiveness of kamen-san's niece. Her thoughts ran at a mile a minute, trying to put together the clues available. _Could this be tied in with the evidence in the library?_

Her suspicions only were reinforced by Chopper's confirmation that the young Brook had confirmed his identity, was consistent in speech style, and, so far as Chopper could with their Brook continuing his existence in a skeletal state, matched their musician in all physical aspects.

_The sentiments he expressed towards Merle are interesting though… Combined with this journal entry, which I am positive is written in Brook's handwriting, the implication that the girl has some god-like power is hard to miss… Perhaps a Devil Fruit?_

_This mystery warrants a little more investigation... Or a straight confrontation, _Robin thought as she saw an obviously distressed Merle stalk past her.

…

A whirlwind of voices brushed past Brook's consciousness as he lay in the bed.

"As soon as he wakes up, I'm going to ask him to become my nakama!" A young and exuberant voice declared.

A woman's voice, clearly annoyed with the first speaker, cut in. "Luffy, we already have a musician! Besides, one Brook is enough!"

Brook registered this new information with a sense of dull surprise. _What…_

The first voice, Luffy, the woman had called him, returned with a childish indignation. "But you told me that two was better than one, Nami!"

"That only applies to treasures and - Forget it! I'm not arguing with you about this!" For a moment there was a pause, before the woman called Nami spoke again. "And you can't keep him!" The sound of heels clicking of the hard wood faded into the distance, though the other person remained in the room.

"Hmph." A pair of sandaled feet hit the ground, though they didn't leave the room. "Don't worry, mystery Brook. I'll make sure Nami let's us keep you!"

Brook moaned internally. _Why do I get the feeling that I've gone and really stepped in it…?_

…

_I can't handle this. It's too much at once. _Merle quickly walked to the library, trying to organize her jumbled thoughts._ They know it, but nobody but the other Brook flinched. It's as if they were expecting it…_

Before she could open the door though, a professional female voice cut through the silence. "Hakuhatsu-san. I believe that you have some explaining to do."

Merle let her hand slide down the door, not even turning around to face Robin. "About Brook?"

The raven haired archeologist leaned against a doorway, not taking her eyes off of the grey haired girl. "Among other things. 'A power reserved for the gods'. What is that power exactly?"

Merle opened her mouth wordlessly, before closing it and shifting into a faint smile. "So you found one of the journals… You are familiar with the large variety of Devil Fruit abilities, I take it?" Robin confirmed that she was indeed familiar with the various Devil Fruit powers.

"Then have you ever heard of the Kaku Kaku no Mi?"

…...

Hakuhatsu - Grey/white hair


	9. Chapter 9

**The Artist's Confession! Sparks Fly As Two Hot-Blooded Men Fight For Their Princess!**

…

_Robin's surprise was readily apparent. "The Kaku Kaku no Mi?" She had heard of this fruit in name, a few scraps of rumor that had built up around a user of it several decades ago, but there was very little in the way of concrete facts about its true powers._

"_Yes. The Kaku Kaku no Mi… It's power allows the user to turn their art into living things. Of course, there are some limitations, mostly dependant the size of the creation, the veracity of the creation's personality, and the skill level of the user." Merle paused. "You can guess the implications of any government or paramilitary group discovering my existence."_

_She began to open the library door. "Was there anything else you wanted?"_

_Robin stood up straight, no longer relaxed enough to lean so casually on the support column. "Yes. Why Brook?"_

_Merle closed her eyes as she allowed the door to swing closed again. Her deflated posture and resigned manner seemed to belong to someone twice her age. "… Because…"_

…

"… _Because…" Merle leaned her forehead against the cool wood of the door frame. No real answer she could give could sound legitimate. Not under this kind of scrutiny. "I don't know. It just… felt right…"_

_The beleaguered artist walked into the darkness of a hallway before the archeologist could ask another question._

…

_Chopper sat in the patient's room observing the sleeping man, still hesitant to call him Brook in his own thoughts. Luffy had fallen asleep on a sofa looking thing after a few hours of them playing with and breaking the really cool action figures that they had found in the room almost immediately after entering it._

_This other Brook was obviously a real person, subject to sickness and disease. No illusions here, unless that grey haired girl was in perfect control of her power, whatever it was, even when across the house and out of any sort of sensory range._

_Maybe a clone? Time-travel? Alternate realities?_

_Okay, maybe Chopper was reading too many comic books. But what else could serve as an explanation? The power could be any of them and not even fall under the Devil Fruit label. The Grand Line was a strange place of mysterious happenings after all…_

…

Brook woke up the next morning to a pressure on his midsection. _Merle-san…_ His faintly confused expression shifted to a much more sour one as he beheld one Monkey D. Luffy sitting Indian-style on his stomach, a wide grin on his face. "So are you going to be my nakama, mystery Brook?"

"No. Now if you'd kindly get off of me…"

The blunt refusal didn't faze the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates in the least. Every single member of his crew had refused to join him at some point. He snickered appreciatively as the mystery Brook tried unsuccessfully to shove him off of the bed.

…

Franky lurked. It wasn't a particularly super way to go about his day, but this manor was just not big enough for him to move around in any other way. Brook lurked as well, though probably for a different reason. "Still upset about your super younger self not letting you see his girlfriend's panties, skele-bro?"

Brook fumed as he drank his tea, though it was difficult for the shipwright to tell if the musician was overacting, something the Brook he was most familiar with seemed to do whenever the atmosphere got too dull for his taste. "He punched me! I can't believe that I could have ever been so rude! It makes my skin crawl… although as a skeleton, I have no skin, just bones! Yohohohoho!" He refilled his tea cup from his custom thermos, stirring in a bit of cream that he had 'borrowed' from Merle's kitchen.

Franky took a swig of his cola, setting the massive bottle down on the table as he gave Brook a serious look. "If it was my girlfriend that you had hit on, skele-bro, I would have done pretty much the same thing… only more super and with a beam."

The skeleton shivered as he sipped at his tea, his ribs and spinal column giving a slight rattle to match that of his teacup and saucer as he shook. Now **this** was the reason why he never asked Robin-san about her panties any more…

The cyborg looked at the ceiling, brushing his huge hand through his standard pompadour. "It's still hard though…"

"What is?" The skeleton managed a slightly confused expression, which was quite a feat for a man without a face.

Franky laughed. "It's hard to imagine you as the hot-blooded type!" He clapped the musician on the back, causing tea to spill all over Brook's floral pants. "Skele-bro is so full of surprises!"

…

Nami leaned on a desk in the library, watching Robin read some dusty old book. "So what did you find out?"

The archeologist turned another age spotted page, partially immersed in poetry well over a century old. "Plenty, though there isn't much to be worried about. I doubt she has any reason to fight us. Her primary concern seems to be for this island to be as invisible as possible."

The navigator ears perked at this bit of information, her eyes transforming into Berri signs as she ran over to the back of Robin's chair, leaning in as if trading secrets. "So why is that? Did she steal something valuable or can she make money out of nothing? If it's worth something, I have to know, Robin~!"

Robin smiled as she reached the last page, not even looking up to make eye contact with her nakama. "I don't think her power is any good for that sort of thing, Nami-san."

"But what is it?" Nami pouted. _Robin's teasing wasn't any fun… _Something struck her at that moment. "The other Brook. He has something to do with her power, right? He's not just some Grand Line anomaly?"

A small smile graced the archeologist's lips. "That would be correct, Nami-san."

…

Merle watered her tiger lilies, like she did every day, while Raith and Usopp sat under a tree, trading stories and playing the eternal game of 'Topper'.

"And there I was; surrounded on all sides by zombie animals baying for my blood! Of course, being the Great Captain Usopp, I swept the field, defeating all of the creatures, along with their mistress, the dreaded Ghost Princess Horo-Horo!"

"Ooh, that's so cool, Usopp! That was from when we were on Thriller Bark, wasn't it?"

"A good tale indeed, Master Usopp! But have you ever heard tell of how I defeated Cormac's army of Druids by my lonesome on the behest of the legendary King Faichu Muillethan?"

"Really? You must be really strong, Raith!"

"As strong as a giant, Master Chopper, but not nearly so tall!"

The bubbling sound of good cheer brought a smile to her face. It was nice that Raith was enjoying himself so much. The feeling of someone suddenly pressing against her was unexpected, her body stiffening as the person wrapped their arms around her waist. _If it's that cooking-jerk, I'm going to… _

"Merle-san." Merle relaxed at the sound of Brook's voice, even though he was violating almost every single one of her personal space boundaries. "That skeleton mask hasn't been giving you any more trouble, has he?" He whispered into her ear.

"Don't worry about it." She shifted out of Brook's embrace to get a good look at him, casting a critical eye over his odd choice of clothes and lack of shoes. A hint of a laugh could be heard in Merle's voice. "How ever did you manage to be both overdressed and underdressed at the same time?"

The musician was wearing a loose off-white cotton t-shirt, a pair of pleated tan pants, an ash grey ruffled jacket and a bottle green waist coat that he hadn't had the opportunity button shut.

His expression could best be described as pained when the subject was touched upon. "You try getting dressed properly while a monkey ransacks your closet. I look like a vagrant."

Merle smiled as she fixed one of the cuffs before moving onto the next touch-up. "I think it looks cute. Like a scarecrow wandered in from the field."

Brook, along with Usopp, Chopper, and Raith, who had stopped their yarn weaving contest to eavesdrop on the pair, sweat dropped as she tidied the handkerchief in Brook's breast pocket. "…You really do have a strange sense of taste, Merle-san."

She tilted her head to the side. "Really?"

…

Usopp watched the grey-haired girl skip back into the house with the young Brook with a flat expression of shock.

_She's just like Robin… I hope Luffy doesn't try to get them to join… Who am I kidding? Luffy isn't going to let us leave the island without them._

He sighed before turning to Raith, a jaunty smile fixed on his face once more.

"Did I tell you about my adventures on the Boin Archipelago?"

…

Sanji was waiting for Merle-chan to return from her gardening with a fruit smoothie. He was confident that with enough time, effort and sweets, he could get a woman to fall absolutely head over heels in love with his princely self.

Just see how Nami-swan called him Sanji-kun! It was proof of his success!

So when Merle walked in the door on that shitty Brook's arm, Sanji had no choice but to stand by quietly smoldering at the young musician who, as far as the cook was concerned, was robbing the cradle that so rightfully belonged to him, the one and only Mr. Prince!

"Oi, oi, oi. Shitty Musician Number 2, hands off Merle-chwan."

Brook turned to face the irate cook, a flicker of annoyance on his face. "My name is Brook, chef-san. Not 'Shitty Musician Number 2'."

Sanji took his cigarette out of his mouth disdainfully, gesturing with the cherry red end as he spoke. "We've already got one of those too. Would you accept 'Shitty Afro Bastard Number 2'? Or is that too offensive for your shitty sensibilities?"

The young musician seemed to produce his cane sword from nowhere, though he hadn't drawn the blade yet. "Are you actively looking for a fight, chef-san, or are you so uncouth that you feel compelled to say 'shit' or some variation thereof in every other sentence for color?"

"If you want to throw down, just know that I'll kick your shitty ass to the next island."

The hiss of steel being drawn couldn't have been missed by anyone. "Bring it on, baka-chef!"

…

Zoro woke up from his nap in a reclining chair to see what looked like a fight between the shit cook and Brook, though it almost seemed as if there was another Brook sitting on the sidelines watching the whole mess.

_Huh. Oh well. If it's important, somebody will wake me up and explain._

So the green haired swordsman went back to sleep.

…

Franky watched the fight with a keen interest as Merle took a seat at the table. "As I said earlier, skele-bro, the young you is a super fiery guy. Just look at him go!"

The skeleton was hunched over the table, still not quite over his sulk. "I can go faster." He muttered into his tea.

"If the fight starts getting dangerous, could one of you stop it?"

Both the shipwright and the musician turned to Merle, who was sitting in a rather controlled position, her legs locked together and her elbows clamped tightly to her sides. "What?"

Merle spoke again, not looking up from her clenching hands. "If the fight starts getting to the point where someone's going to get seriously hurt, can one of you step in and stop it?"

Another voice cut in before either Franky or Brook could answer.

"If it gets too serious, I'll just kick both their asses." Luffy smiled under his hat as he sat down next to his nakama. "But first I wanna see how strong mystery Brook really is."

…...

'Topper' - You know when someone tells a story and the next person says, 'Oh, that was nothing! Just wait 'till you hear this one!'. That's 'Topper'.


End file.
